Darling Mom

“I don’t need you, MOM! I don’t need you!”

I hear this screamed by a large, fit, and well-dressed man. He is a study in contradiction. He has a large pack which suggests to me that he could be homeless. He is huge, more than six feet tall. He appears mentally ill. He is screaming at his mom.

Obscenities.

It seems he might be on the phone but I can’t quite tell, as a tree partially obscures my view. The sun is out and pale Oregonians are flooding outside. I’m eating Street Noodles in front of a food truck and feeling vaguely uncomfortable.

The man begins to holler about shooting someone.

There is no mother nor victim to shoot that I can see.

The cops show up, and as soon as he sees them, he begins to pack up and move along, still yelling. The cops follow, at great distance.

“I don’t need you, Mom.”

His furious, belligerent voice lingers. He was defiant. But not truthful. I listen to the cadence and rhythm of voices, searching for the shreds of truth or lies. I have done so since I was a little girl.

I listen for what is behind the words.

I heard that he needed a mother more than he needed anything else.

It was devastating. Like watching a car hit a bicycle. A large need crushing a vulnerable man. I wanted to walk over to him, put my hand on his arm and say “I hear you.” I was too scared. But I wish I had been brave enough.

I have that same sort of dissonance in my relationship with mothers.

I surely don’t want to need one.

But if you put your ear to my heart, you would hear me cry like a little girl, “I need a mama.”

Yet, I am a 44 year-old mama.

And I still need a mother. Maybe more than ever. Because in raising children, in being a mother, what I have realized is that I have missed out on much of what I needed. And in missing out, I am not equipped to give what my kids need. It’s a deep pain. I’m always on a journey to get what I didn’t have so I can give what my kids need.

It’s like climbing a mountain peak roped to people below you, but you never reach the top.

This past spring, I participated in a program our high school hosts to foster acceptance in the students. There was a young man there. He was attention-seeking. Highly distracted. And vulnerable in a darling way. Through the whole program, my heart was drawn to him. He was brave and shared honest, difficult issues. I had this desire to walk up to him, put my hands on either side of his face, and say, “If I was your mom, I would be so very proud of you.”

I didn’t do it. It seemed like I might scare him. But I heard him. He needed a mother.

We need mother and fathers to be a vision of change and growth as age rolls forward.

We need anchors to the earth when life feels too hard. We need voices that speak to us, “All will be well.”

Many of us stride through this world in deep need of parental love. I don’t know how to address this problem. Except maybe get a little braver and offer attunement and kindness to large men and sophomore boys? In my uncertainty, I’m asking the question. I am listening to myself. What do I need? I’m watching. What do you need?

Maybe the answer will come and until then, I will honor those of us with mother-holes by creating space to speak our need.

And truly, all of us have mother-holes even if we are connected to our mothers. And despite our best intentions, we who are mom’s create holes in our children. It’s part of our humanity. Not to be hated, but to be seen with mercy, because it is the place where God gets in. Into us and into our children. The holes are God-shaped. But we won’t even know we have them if we don’t give them names.

I hope to create a community where it is possible to say when and why you need a mother, even if you are one. You can find the start of this community at my new website, Darling Mom. So many of us are moms, while never given the luxury to be the darling.

This space will not be able to be all that you or I need, but it will be a place to name that we do indeed, need.

Jill Dyer reigns as queen among her family, scribbles truth, and loves red wine. She hopes to sling healing words wherever her flip flops, trail runners, or pen should fall. Along with one of her dearest friends, she recently founded Darling Mom: A Place to Discover Where You are Still Growing Up. Find out more at www.darlingmom.com, @thisisdarlingmom on Instagram or our Darling Mom on Facebook. You can also find her writer’s page at www.jillinked.com.

Posted by:redtentwomen

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14 replies to Darling Mom

Jill, I feel like I just want to call you up and ask you to have coffee together! Wow….you are so perceptive in seeing the need – the Mom Hole – as you called it in those of us who were not mothered. I am a mom and I think I did the best I could do with inadequate tools, I still have a mom – she is elderly and to this day, she is not mothering to me. For a reasons unknown to me, she did not want me and she still doesn’t. That hole in me is a longing I want to go away and to stop hurting. Thank you for addressing this for those of us who cannot understand why that hole never got filled. I just pray to God that I was and am able to fill the holes in my own children’s hearts. Inadequately, I’m sure, but with mindful intention. I will be visiting your blog. I’m excited to hear and learn more about how others handle this longing that is never satisfied.

Barbara, I hear the tenderness in your response. Thank you for trusting me with it. The certainty in your sentence saying your mom did not want you and to this day doesn’t….felt so deeply painful. All I know to say is that I am with you. The “Mother Hole” is a primal pain. I hope Darling Mom can be a place where your need gets some attention as well as a place to voice some of the heartache. And more than that, I hope the love of God gets into those painful places to soothe and settle. Thank you for your validation.

Jill, this is beautiful. I love your heart and the way you see. I will ponder this line for quite some time…”We need anchors to the earth” and voices to speak “All shall be well.” There is nothing that has stirred my desire for my own mothering more than becoming a mother myself. Holding a deep love for my children and simultaneously a desire in my body to be taken care of and told “you got this” can feel physically painful some days. I am so moved by what you are offering with darling mom and will pray for you as you invite others into this longing. I truly believe that a single drop of good mothering ripples, quenches and springs forth new life. Blessings to you.

Rachel. You said it so well, “Holding a deep love for my children and simultaneously a desire in my body to be taken care of and told “you got this” can feel physically painful some days.” That resonates deeply. I’m with you on the ripples…may all the mothering we give and need bring life. Thank you for your heartfelt response.

Jill, this is stunning and so resonates. There have been so many times I have felt that deep “mother-hole” and needed attunement and care for my heart. Thank you for putting words to the deep need that I have not wanted to have, but is at times, very present. What you are offering with Darling Mom is so needed in this world and I am in awe of your vision.

Ahh friend. Thank you. I don’t want the mother need either. And yet here we are. There is beauty in the way we offer it to each other. I have been a recipient of your mother’s heart and it’s an exact replication of what you say you need. Love you.

Wow. This post is so on point, and yet even its title and offering means I have to engage with and work through the word “darling.” In my world that was everything I didn’t want. If my mom described something as “darling” I automatically hated it. (I wrote a story on my blog called “The Darling Blouse” that I just revisited. Truth.) So for me, courage is stepping into the resistance to accept the invitation to mothering for my heart. It is also receiving the kindness of reframing and redeeming a wounding word from the getgo. I look forward to exploring more all that is darling. Thank you for this beautiful disruption.

Julie. I so hear you. The resistance toward mothering can be kind of like that stone in front of the tomb. Large and immovable unless addressed with great courage, strength, and angels. I feel glad that you have to wrestle with the title…and know that you are in good company. I have. My co-founder has. We are hearing from others too. I feel like we are naming it the opposite of what it really is…the F#@*ed Up Orphans club. I had a hard time seeing that as an Instagram handle. 🙂 But our opposition isnt in denial but belief that if Jesus said he would not leave us as orphans, there is mothering for us too. May Jesus come within your wrestling. And thank you deeply for your honest comment.

Oh my…I am a 51 year old mama who doesn’t want to need a mama and also cries because she needs her mama and has missed so much. Such a painful reality, and yet the beauty in the way you describe what you notice in people, your instincts to bring a loving, kind mother blessing to them, so powerful. I am very curious to learn more about Darling Mom!

Janet, Your voice has such familiarity. Even through a computer. It’s the familiar longing for a mama. Thank you for sharing your vulnerability. I hope Darling Mom can become a place of kindness and comfort for you. ♡

“if you put your ear to my heart, you would hear me cry like a little girl, “I need a mama.”” Full stop. Deep breath. You’ve named something powerful, painful, true, and holy here. I know it for myself; I witness it in my middle school students, among others. Thank you for entering into this and exploring it—you’ve put words to a lot that I’ve felt. I’m excited about Darling Mom!